The Dreamer
by Jenisaur
Summary: Stella MacGregor has discovered she has a special power; she can travel between parallel universes through her dreams. This power however, has attracted the attention of a dangerous, dimension hopping entity. Now her favorite TV heroes: The Doctor, Sherlock, and the Winchesters are trapped in our universe. Can they learn to work together to save all of reality?
1. The Black Smoke

**Episode One**

**_The Black Smoke_**

It was a dark night, and far from quiet. Cars, sirens, and the usual bustle of the city rang loud in Stella's ears. She almost didn't hear Jasmine ask her what was wrong,

"STELLA! You still with us?" her eyes shone bright with wonder and excitement. Stella had felt it too, but standing there in front of the house now she felt uneasy and wrong. Something in her gut told her to turn and run as fast as she could to The Caddy and hit the freeway back to their comfortable suburban lives.

"I don't know maybe we should just head back. I mean checking out an old haunted spot that's cool and all, but we're breaking and entering now. What if someone calls the cops?" Stella was genuinely worried about going to jail, or getting into any trouble with the police. She wanted a future, a teaching job and a white picket fence family with Damian, her husband. Unfortunately a police record for breaking and entering wouldn't look good on a resume, but Stella had a burning fire inside her that hungered for adventure, and for the unusual. She had an average frame with soft brown hair that barely touched her waist. Her bangs were cut short and hung just above her brow, framing her round face and hazel eyes which were now scanning the empty street behind her. She had a horrible feeling about this place.

"Don't worry me and Ruby have been here before nobody called the cops then. It's not like we're stealing anything. Hold this," Jasmine passed Stella her bag. The Ouija board clunked around inside.

Ruby and Jasmine showed no sign of fear, they were almost giddy. She wondered how her excitement had turned so quickly into the mortal dread that sat in the pit of her stomach. She took a few deep breaths. She'd seen a thousand scary movies. She knew that she would be fine if she kept her head and didn't do anything stupid. This thought comforted her slightly. Tonight was the night. She'd get her answers and she wasn't going to let anything stop her, even herself. Ruby and Jasmine had finally rigged the lock free and had the door open. It was now or never.

"Are you sure you wanna come? You can still wait outside and keep watch for us," Jasmine saw something in her sister-in-law's eyes that screamed "let's go" but Stella stepped over the threshold anyways. Ruby had a mischievous gleam in her eyes and a halfcocked smile that showed she was deep in thought. Ruby and Jasmine had been hunting down old houses and ghost stories with their mom since they were kids. Stella however had very little experience with the supernatural other than a fascination.

She'd never seen a haunted house or went looking for a ghost. She'd never played with a Ouija board as a kid, because she'd never dare ask her mother for one. But she had always noticed strange things happening around her. Doors slamming shut on their own, strange dreams that sometimes came true, and a powerful memory of staying at her grandparents when she was young. Every time she would visit, she would wake up to the sensation of her head being held into her pillow by some unknown force. She'd hear whispers in what seemed like another language coming from (what seemed like) the mattress.

"Do you guys smell that too?" Jasmine asked.

"Kinda smells like sulfur," Ruby replied. Stella thought she saw a dark look flash through Ruby's eyes, but it disappeared quickly and was replaced by her usual mischievous smile. Stella stuck tight to Jasmine's side. Ruby however couldn't help herself and went wandering. Stella stood in the doorway while Jasmine entered the room. Her jet black hair settled just past the collar of her leather jacket as she stood in the doorway, bright blue eyes scanning the room. They fixated on a large stain by the old dusty bed. She could only guess, but she had a feeling it was once blood and had been half-heartedly attempted to clean. She walked over it, picking up her long black skirt so it wouldn't drag across the old blood stain, and came to the nightstand. She opened the drawer, and immediately felt a chill run down her spine. It was him. He wore a smile in the photo, along with his wife and children. His wife was beautiful. Jasmine couldn't imagine anyone hurting such a kind looking woman or such young children. He must have been sick in the head.

"Guys check this out," Jasmine and Stella left the bedroom to join Ruby and they all examined the photo. Stella thought she should have been more chilled seeing the man who was supposedly haunting the house they had just broken into, but something else was bothering her more. It was something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but it still twisted her stomach up in knots. She felt like such a coward so she decided to keep this to herself.

"So Stella you ready?" Ruby seemed to sense her fear, because there was a twinge of mocking in her voice. Stella nodded and pulled the Ouija board out of the oversized bag. Ruby got right to setting it up, candles and all. The knots in Stella's stomach instantly intensified. The board was set up and they debated who would join Stella in holding the moving piece. They decided it should be Jasmine, because Stella didn't trust Ruby not to cheat and pull a prank on her. She wanted it to be real.

"You talk I have no idea what to say," Stella managed a nervous chuckle.

"I got it. Are there any spirits in this house who want to communicate with us tonight?" their hands rested lightly and anxiously on the game piece. Nothing.

"Umm.. Anybody home?" Stella let out another chuckle. Nothing would happen, she was just being stupid, but suddenly the piece shot out of their hands, and the window in the piece read simply 'Yes'. They put their hands back on the game piece and placed it back at the start.

"What is your name?" Jasmine asked eagerly. Nothing again. Jasmine and Stella exchanged confused looks. Ruby sat perfectly still, eyes focused on the board with a strange kind of smile.

"Will you answer me?" Stella asked hesitantly. Again the piece shot back to yes. Her heart stopped. "What's so special about me?" she managed. She was no longer controlling the piece. It moved slowly on its own across the board.

P-L-A-N-S

She turned to Jasmine in confusion, but Jasmine was no longer watching the board. All the color was drained from her face. Her eyes were fixed on her sister, who was now laughing coldly. It was a horrible and joyless laugh that made Stella feel cold and helpless. She stood and backed away from the monster that had taken Ruby's place, trying to pull Jasmine to her feet. Jasmine wouldn't, or couldn't, stand. She was stone still, eyes unmoving from her sisters.

"What did you think was going to happen tonight? Did you think you were going to have a nice little chat with Casper the Friendly Ghost?" the monster burst into a chilling fit of laughter. With a flick of its wrist Jasmine was thrown against the wall. "THERE'S NO SUCH THING!"

Stella raced to Jasmine and pulled with all her strength at her dangling legs "She didn't even do anything! What do you want from me?! Just leave her alone!" Jasmine struggled against invisible hands.

"I want you to go back to where you came from. I can take everything you love away. Slowly. It'll be so _easy._ But why should you take me on my word? I'm a stranger to you! Why don't I prove it," it produced a knife and raised it high above Ruby's head.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER,"

"Oh do try to stop me. This was getting so boring. I expected more of a fight from you Stella!" the monster beckoned her with its hand and she was pulled closer. Stella charged at Ruby's body, taking a swing and striking her cheek. It just kept laughing as she swung and grabbed at the knife. Ruby was considerably taller and more powerful than Stella, but she fought with all her strength. The cold laugh never stopped, it didn't move. It took blow after blow until finally with another flick of the wrist Stella joined Jasmine suspended against the wall.

"Now that that's out of the way shall I show you what I mean? Pay attention now my dear I'll only do this once," it drove the blade hard into Ruby's stomach. Stella could no longer hear Jasmine screaming at the monster. All she could do was close her eyes and turn away, "LOOK AT ME!" his voice raised into a roar.

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS WHAT'S THE POINT?! JUST TELL ME!" she managed through sobs.

"If I ever see you here again, I will take everything from you," It twisted the blade, "I CONTROL EVERYTHING and there's nothing you can do. Don't you see? You're so powerless here, so pathetic," it took the blade out and looked it over with a satisfied grin, "You know, just so we understand each other, I think I'll drive the point home," it drove the blade into Ruby's neck, and suddenly Stella and Jasmine dropped to the floor as thick black smoke surrounded her. She heard a strangely familiar sound. It was music, she knew the song. Why was she hearing that song? She still couldn't hear Jasmine. All she could hear was the music.

_"__Shake me down… not a lot of people left around, who knows now. Softly laying on the ground… Oooooooh. Not a lot of people left around oooooooh. Ooooooh…"_


	2. Strange Dreams

**Episode Two**

**_Strange Dreams_**

I finally woke and rolled over to turn off the alarm. I could hear the shower running in the bathroom. I was used to strange dreams, but this one had felt so real, how could my imagination have gone to such a dark place? I'd never felt any malice toward Ruby, she was technically my sister too. The shower was running, and the smell of fresh cooked breakfast drifted in from the kitchen.

"Morning babe, any breakfast left for me?" I asked, leaning against the bathroom doorframe.

"Hey Bubba! Of course," Damian poked his head out from behind the shower curtain and I walked closer, giving him a peck before heading to the kitchen.

I was supposed to be applying for my first real job as a college graduate, but as I sat at the table fork in hand schools were the last thing on my mind. All I could see in my head was Ruby, impaled, smiling that horrid smile. How could I have dreamt something so horrible? I was debating whether or not to tell Damian about it when he snuck up behind me and planted a surprise kiss on my cheek. I gasped, and the look he gave me made my decision for me.

"Sorry Bubba I didn't mean to scare you," he said with a chuckle.

"No I'm sorry. I had a crazy vivid nightmare last night. I don't even know if I can describe what happened it was awful…" the vision flashed through my head again, making me shudder.

"Well you could tell me the gist of it if you wanna talk about it. I won't judge,"

"It's weird, I usually can only remember bits and pieces of my dreams. But this one… I can remember the whole thing every last detail. I could feel things; I saw everything from my own perspective. Anyways, Jasmine, Ruby and me were all going to some old ass house, I don't know why, it was supposed to be haunted or something. We were fucking around with a Ouija board and the ghost would only talk to me, it said it had plans. But that wasn't what got me. Ruby's eyes went all black. She…" I wasn't sure if I wanted to finish. The understanding in Damian's eyes made me go on, "She killed herself. But, she wasn't like 'I'm all depressed' it was like she was doing it to scare me. She was holding me and Jasmine in the air like Carrie style, like telekinesis, she wanted us to watch. She said, she wanted to prove a point, that she was going to kill everyone I loved. But she died you know so I don't get how that would work? I have no idea what it meant but… I don't know it's just putting me in a bummer mood. I think I'm just going to stay home today I can go job hunting another time. I'm just gonna get back to watching Supernatural. I'm super hooked!" A lazy day sounded like just what I needed. Get out of my own head.

"That sounds perfect. I think maybe I'll even take a break from my game," Damian was designing a video game with a new program I'd gotten him for his birthday, and it'd been going really well. Now that we were graduated he felt compelled to finish a game to present to any company who would give him the time of day. Though he made good money at the mortgage company he had been working at, it would never be his passion. We never wanted to climb any corporate ladders, we both hated it all with a passion and he had never seen his job as a permanent career.

We finished breakfast and I snuggled up under the covers in our bed putting Netflix on the TV while Damian situated himself in his gaming chair. Movies, TV shows, books, and video games got me by in life. Stories of impossible things always managed to give me hope, even when I was at my lowest, for as long as I could remember. I was never considered an exceptional child. I wasn't better at sports or school than anyone else. I wasn't prettier or more charming than the other girls; in fact I couldn't remember a time that I was ever liked in school. I was just an average looking nerd. I wasn't enough of a rebel for the burn outs and I was never pretty or cool enough for the popular crowd. I never had siblings my age (my half siblings were both my mom's age). I was an only child, too socially awkward to fit into anyone's circle. As an adult, I know now the only place I ever "fit in" back then was alone in my room with a book or glued to the television. A character in a story can never judge you or make you feel inferior, and those characters became my imaginary circle of friends.

The only person in the world who ever made me feel special was Damian. He helped me find myself, and be not only unashamed of who I was but proud. We were high school sweethearts since my freshman year, and it was love at first sight. He changed everything, and I never thought there could be any better proof that destiny exists until I befriended Jasmine. We met at the start of college. Jasmine and me had been coworkers for a year, but never really got close until Damian and I had moved into our first apartment and, by chance, we became neighbors. I never thought I'd see love at first sight again in my life until we all went out for my birthday and Jasmine met Damian's brother Luke for the first time. They became inseparable, and soon we created our own family. My family, the only true family I ever had. Before we knew it we were all bound together in marriage, and it felt like my own personal fairy tale had finally fallen into place. I was at peace.

Even though I was no longer the lonely child who clung to imaginary friends behind a screen, I still kept the characters close to my heart. I cried with their tragedies and felt warmth with their triumphs. I had found a home, walking a fine line between fantasy and reality. But little did I know as the familiar stories lit the screen that day that the line that I saw clear as day was about to be forever blurred.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand as "The Phantom Traveler" played out on the screen. To my surprise, it read five missed calls and two texts, all from Jazz. When I opened up my texts my heart stopped,

_Dude I'm bawling my eyes out I just got a call from my mom something happened to Ruby last night.. she didn't show up for work this morning and they found her body in her apartment she's dead Stella my sister is dead.. Just call me when you get this please…_

_Stella I really need someone to talk to my mom is hysterical fuck dude I'M hysterical I don't know how this happened. _

I was speechless. Was my dream a premonition? Damian saw immediately something was wrong. I handed my phone to him without a word as a silent tear fell down my cheek.

"Oh my god… is Jazz gonna be ok?" he was just as stunned as I was. But I couldn't answer him. I watched the screen as a terrified man in an airport bathroom is consumed by the same black smoke I saw in my dreams the night before.

"I… I need to call her back…" I finally managed. I took my phone back and found her contact, barely able to keep my hands from shaking.

"Hello?" Jasmine was in tears.

"Jazz I'm so sorry I haven't been by the phone! Are you ok?"

"She's gone… there was nothing they could do… the doctors don't know what happened she was perfectly healthy it's like her lungs and heart just stopped for no fucking reason! I'm staying with my mom for the next few days. We have to talk about funeral arrangements. I just don't understand how she never had any problems Stella she barely even got colds and she just drops dead in her sleep? We have to wait for the autopsy… a fucking autopsy I can't FUCKING BELIEVE THIS SHIT," she was sobbing

"Jazz I don't even know what to say…" I was debating telling her about my dream, but it wasn't the right time so I just said, "I'm so sorry…"

"It's ok… I mean it's not ok but it'll have to be. I don't even know what to say to my own mom. We can't believe it it's like it's all a bad dream,"

"Yeah I know the feeling…" she had no idea how well.

"I gotta get back to my mom dude she's a mess, I can't blame her so am I,"

"Is there anything I can do? I can drive out there if you wanna talk or anything just say the word,"

"No it's ok. I think I should just be with my mom and dad for now. Thank you though you're a good friend. You're the only sister I have now…"

"God I'm so sorry.. give your parents my condolences for me will you?"

"I will thank you,"

"I'm here if you need anything don't hesistate to call I'll have my phone close by, I'll talk to you later ok?"

"Yeah I'll keep you posted. Thanks again Stella for everything,"

I hung up the phone and faced Damian's anxious, steely blue eyes. "They said it was like she just died in her sleep. No illness nothing she just stopped breathing the doctors are completely baffled. Do you think my dream was like trying to warn me?" somehow I didn't even believe my own theory.

"I don't know babe that's crazy… is Jazz alright?"

"No she's a mess dude her whole family is. Imagine if that was Luke," Luke was Damian's brother and Jazz's husband.

"Yeah I'd rather not even think about that," he let out an uncomfortable chuckle and I averted my eyes back to the screen just in time to see the man's eyes turn pitch black.

"Babe look!" I froze the scene just in time to get a close look at his eyes, "That was exactly what Ruby's eyes looked like in my dream like SPOT ON! Do you think it means anything?"

"Probably that you watch too much TV? I don't know I can't even remember most of my dreams maybe you saw that in a preview and forgot about it. You look really freaked out babe why don't you watch something else? I'll get on WOW with you!" he wanted to distract me and I could tell.

"You know what babe? I think I'll fire up my laptop and we can do just that!" I pressed the power button on the Wii with fierce determination. "Fuck that show I don't need any more crazy nightmares," that was what I said, but part of me wanted to keep watching. I had to know what the black eyes meant. The rest of the day went by pretty normally. I consoled Jazz as best I could through text, but the truth was I could handle just about anything but death. I hadn't had many deaths in my family, and I really had no clue what to say. After a day of gaming and nice dinner with Damian the two of us settled in for bed again.

"What should we put on tonight babe?" he asked me.

"Anything but Supernatural! What's the polar opposite of Supernatural?"

"Well I'd say the opposite of two Americans hunting and killing ghosts and spirits would be a British man saving people with cold hard science,"

"Sherlock it is!" I laughed.

And as we drifted off to sleep, me wrapped up safely in his arms, I felt comfort in knowing that it had all been just a dream. I would dream again tonight and wake up tomorrow in my same bed with the same man I'd woken up next to for years. There was no such thing as premonitions, or magic, or spirits. There was nothing else but what was happening right there, right then.


	3. Bored!

**Episode Three**

**Bored!**

It had been a week since the famous Sherlock Holmes had found a case that was even remotely interesting. John Watson, his flat mate, was out but Sherlock didn't seem to notice. He lay on his couch staring blankly at the ceiling, a pile of unread works of fiction on the floor next to him. He couldn't get past the sleeve of the book (sometimes even the cover) without deducing the plot and the ending. "BORED!" he shouted at the ceiling.

"Oh Sherlock I'm sure something interesting will come up soon," came a kind voice from the hall. It was Sherlock's landlady, Mrs. Hudson. "Oh now what was wrong with these ones,"

"Fiction only takes up space in my head there's no point to it," he complained.

"Oh but this book is one of my favorites!" She picked up the book on the very top of the pile he had made, "It's a mystery! I thought you would like it,"

"The husband did it. Obviously," he exclaimed irritably.

"Well if you'd like you can spoil this one for me. I just picked it up while I was at the store," the paperback she handed him showed a girl that had an average frame with soft brown hair that barely touched her waist. Her back was to the reader, showing a tattoo of a silhouetted vintage birdcage, illegible writing underneath. She wore a white dress that made her sun kissed skin look brighter and more vibrant. She was barefoot and seemingly hovering in blue skies with wispy white clouds all around. The title read: The Dreamer. He turned the book over, the description read:

_Stella MacGregor is your average 25 year old suburbanite. She and her husband Damian live a quiet life in a sunny California town until one fateful night changes her life forever. After a gruesome dream of possession and the death of her good friend Ruby, Stella wakes to discover that there was more to her dreams than she ever thought possible. Ruby has died for real. Now Stella must search her dreams for answers, stumbling across her favorite TV characters along the way. Stella will soon find however, that truth can be stranger than fiction. _

Mrs. Hudson was eyeing Sherlock curiously, waiting for him to reveal the ending.

"Stella is in a mental asylum; she murdered Ruby. BORED!" he added the book to the pile and jumped to his feet, running his hands through his brown curly locks in frustration.

"Well I think I'm going to read it anyways," She picked the book up off of the pile and headed back to her flat, "Don't you dare even think about shooting that wall again!" she shouted from down the hall. Sherlock ignored her and began pacing, trying to think of an experiment to occupy his time.

Stella woke barefoot in an unfamiliar alley wearing her favorite white dress. Disoriented, she walked toward the street nearest to see where she was. She didn't seem to have any injuries, or any new ones at least. How did she get here? Where was here? When she made it to the sidewalk her eyes scanned the surroundings for a street sign. The whole feel of the place was sort of familiar. When she finally happened upon a street sign, she was beside herself.

"Baker Street?! Seriously Baker Street? No way… it couldn't be," she suddenly realized that the passersby were staring at her. She said to herself (significantly quieter this time) "I wonder…" and she followed the street, intently inspecting every door along the way until she stopped at 221B. She furrowed her brow and studied her surroundings in disbelief. It was exactly the same. Speedy's Café next door, the door of the flat itself; black with 221B in gold, even the obscure little door knocker underneath it was spot on. Stella erupted in laughter that bordered on hysterics, "The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street!" she said mockingly through her laughter, even adding the wink and the clicks of his tongue from the show.

"I assume you have a case for us then?" came a voice from behind her. She turned to see a man only a few inches taller than herself with greyed hair and comforting light brown eyes. Stella recognized him immediately. It was John Watson! And Bilbo Baggins! She'd never met a celebrity before, and assumed he was making a joke.

"I do indeed, Mr. Watson!" she replied mockingly. To her surprise however he pulled out a set of keys and stepped passed her to the door.

"Thank god. If I find any more body parts in that fridge…" he opened the door and stood behind it expectantly. "Well come on in, he can be a dickhead but he won't bite,"

Stella followed him, unable to shake the feeling of disbelief. It was Martin Freeman she was following, John Watson was fictional. But that was when it hit her, her dream the night before about Ruby having black eyes. It was straight out of the TV show, so she must be dreaming now too! Dream or no dream, her disbelief turned to excitement. She was about to meet Sherlock Holmes, and she wanted to make the most of it. As the stepped into the flat she was practically giddy, wearing an ear to ear grin. Sherlock was sitting on the couch by the far wall, nose buried in a complicated looking book.

"Wow, Sherlock Holmes in the flesh!" and in her head she added, _well sort of._

"Sherlock this is…" but Sherlock was impatient as he always was in his fits of boredom. He recognized her accent immediately. American, most likely from the West Coast judging from her skin tone and speaking of her skin the pattern of the scars suggested a form of Obsessive Compulsive behaviors: skin picking nail biting probably stemmed from anxiety from the way she tries to hide her scars rubbing her arms covering the ones by her nails with cheap polish.

"…a clumsy American, with a slight case of Dermatillomania from the looks of it. I hope you didn't come all this way to bore me," he quickly shut his book and glared at her, waiting to be bored. "Well go on then what have you got for me?"

Stella hadn't thought to make up a case, she had come in to get Martin Freeman's autograph after all. But there she was face to face with the real Sherlock Holmes trying to think one up. Stella suddenly realized she had a very real case, one that maybe only her favorite fictional detective could solve. "Do you believe in premonitions Mr. Holmes? Dreams that come true but not exactly like it happened in your dream?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Get on with it,"

"OK… A very good friend of mine died violently in my dreams last night. When I woke up this morning, she was dead for real. Her lungs and her heart just stopped working in the middle of the night while she was sleeping. She was perfectly healthy. Her sister said she never even got colds. Then I go to bed again right, and you know where I wake up? Barefoot in an alley on Baker Street," Sherlock, who had been pacing and looking about in disinterest, stopped suddenly, his eyes fixed on her.

"Boring… boring…" His eyes flashed, as if a switch flicked over inside his head "What's you're name?" he walked closer to her, towering over her.

"Stella…" she said with an uncomfortable and confused smile.

"Stella.. Stella.. Tell me Stella, and this is important: What is your last name?" his bright eyes looked intense in concentration.

Stella was confused, she had been waiting for him to tell her to go back home to her McDonald's cheeseburgers. To tell her that she belonged in an asylum "MacGregor," she said hesitantly.

"MRS. HUDSON," John and Stella watched in bewilderment as he stormed out of the room without another word toward Mrs. Hudson's flat.

"Sorry I have no idea what that was about, I'm going to see what's going on. Please, have a seat," and with that he followed Sherlock out into the hall.

At first Stella sat in the chair he had brought over. She was dumbfounded, and thought for a moment about how strange this dream was. But when would she ever get the chance to poke around Sherlock's flat? She wandered immediately to the iconic wall that featured the yellow smiley face and was painted with bullet holes. She touched one, it felt so real. She was so caught up in the excitement of it all, she wasn't prepared to hear that cold humorless laugh again. With a chill down her spine, she managed to turn and face him. "Moriarty!?" she felt slightly relieved. She was ready for anything but that black eyed monster. "I'll tell you what you are one of my favorite villains. Honestly! I mean let's be fair you're no Loki but you're creative! You've got style!"

He laughed the cold laugh again, Stella stiffened for only a moment, "What did I tell you about getting in my way?" and then Moriarty's eyes weren't his own. The blackness enveloped them and Stella's instincts told her to sprint. "Well this just won't do! You keep popping up where you don't belong. If you don't stop with this I'll have to get really… how did you put it? Creative,"

John and Mrs. Hudson watched Sherlock inquisitively as he searched frantically through her new book. "That's impossible… I need to go to my mind palace. Don't follow me," he stormed out determined to talk to Stella alone. However as he approached the door the voiced behind it proved that someone else had gotten to her first.

"So you've come to have the famous Sherlock Holmes help you with your 'case'. I made a promise to you. I intend to keep it. Now I can't kill you here no no no… that would be much too easy. I'll find you when you're sleeping. Not even your Doctor can save you where you're going ," Sherlock was peering inconspicuously from the doorway. Moriarty, he had watched him put a bullet into his skull. Two impossible things standing together in his flat, and for a moment even Sherlock Holmes was completely stumped. "Sweet dreams Stella MacGregor. I'll see you on the other side," Moriarty pulled a small canister out from his coat. It made a loud hiss as he let the gas flow out and tossed it carelessly in Stella's direction, disappearing from sight as white clouds filled the room. Sherlock ran across the flat towards. If he could just hold his breath he could carry her out in time to get her to the hospital. She was luckily still conscious when he reached her, and as he grabbed her hand the itching and aching in his lungs was becoming too much for him to bare. He held tight to her, determined to pull her out. As they tried to run together hand in hand, they could not control the natural impulse any longer and took in a deep breath, collapsing through the floor together in unconsciousness.


	4. An Unexpected Guest

**Episode Four**

**An Unexpected Guest**

I woke with a start, lying comfortably on my stomach hands wrapped around my pillow. Another dream turned nightmare. I was overjoyed to feel the warmth of the body next to me. My husband, my Damian was safe and sound. Groggy and disoriented, I made my way to the kitchen for some water without looking back. Damian however, was not sleeping so comfortably. With our fluffy orange cat Crookshanks laying curled up on his pillow above his head and the big black beast of a lab Padfoot at his feet, the bed was feeling a bit crowded. He didn't wake however until Crookshanks sat up and started meowing loudly.

"Shut up cat!" he was used to this annoying habit, but it'd been awhile since they had to deal with it. He rolled over, pushing Crookshanks away when (to his surprise) instead of facing me he was eye to eye with a very familiar man.

"Good evening Mr. MacGregor. My name is Sherlock Holmes and it appears I'll be taking your wife's case,"

I don't remember much after walking in on Sherlock and my husband's staring contest, but I do remember waking up again cozy in our bed to the sound of voices from the kitchen. I took a deep breath and pulled a robe over my pajamas.

"I'm telling you Sherlock it's a parallel universe I've been saying it all along!" Damian was making Sherlock Holmes (THE Sherlock Holmes) tea in our kitchen in our little house in Northern California. I knew it wasn't the actor this time, there was no denying it. I follow him on every social networking sight, and let me tell you, he had much more interesting things to do than stopping by my house that night for a laugh. It was really him, you could just… tell. For a moment, none of us knew what to say as I stepped through the archway to the small kitchen. Sherlock sat at my mom's old oak table, eyeing me in deep concentration. Damian started over to me and settled a strong arm around my shoulders, "You gonna be ok Buhbuh?"

"I think I'll survive…" I managed awkwardly.

"Yes! Good. I'd prefer it if you didn't faint again," I sat down at the table across from him, Damian pulling up a chair next to me. I couldn't find my words still; all I could do was stare (uncomfortably for him I'm sure) in amazement. And for a moment even Sherlock Holmes was speechless, he was eyeing me intently.

"Am I… Am I still dreaming? Is there like some kind of way to tell if this is real or not cause I've had just about enough of these nightmares and I just want to wake up.. am I awake?" I did my best to hold back my tears. It was getting to be a little overwhelming, these vivid dreams. After what happened to Ruby, I never wanted Damian in my dreams again. Good or bad the black eyed monster could come at any moment and take him from me, and that I couldn't bear to even think about.

"No Buhbuhs, you're awake trust me," he planted a kiss on my cheek. "See it's all real!"

"Wrong," Sherlock said finally, jumping to his feet excitedly and pacing our kitchen. "This can't be real, since neither of you are real," we stared at him for a moment in confusion then turned to each other and shrugged. "Shut up and leave, both of you, I need to go to my mind palace,"

"Neither of us said anything," I said, waiting excitedly for what I knew he would say next.

"You're thinking it's putting me off now LEAVE," with a satisfied grin Damian took my hand and we walked silently to our bedroom. Immediately as we stepped through the door I collapsed face first onto our big comfy bed. Crookshanks, startled, leaped over me and went sprinting down the hall. Our big lazy dog Padfoot didn't seem to notice, except when he inched closer to give the side of my face a good lick. I rolled to my side wrapped my arms around him, squeezing tight and closing my eyes, hoping when I opened them all of this will have still been a dream. Instead, I opened them to Damian, sitting beside me with one large hand settled on my waist reassuringly.

I sat up to face him. "So if this isn't a dream, how are you so OK with a character from TV being in our kitchen right now? You were chatting him up and making him tea, like an old friend was dropping by! I was just dreaming about him and BAM there he is in our house and you're completely unfazed, how?"

"Well, I have no way to know how he got here or even if I'm going to wake up in an hour, but I'm pretty sure this is real. And I think I have an idea of how," he replied calmly. But he didn't get the chance because suddenly Sherlock appeared in the doorway.

"We need to talk," his demeanor had changed. His face had turned dark, and as he turned and walked back toward the kitchen a big part of me didn't want to follow him. "Not you," he barked, stopping dead in his tracks, looking over his shoulder waiting for Damian to leave. He kissed my cheek, eyes locked with Sherlock's in suspicion. When we got into the kitchen he stood facing me, glaring.

"OK so… You have a theory right? You being here does it have something to do with what happened to Ruby?"

"I have a number of theories but first I need to ask you a few questions," he brightened up instantly, but it wasn't much comforting the way he was eyeing me as he seemed to prance around my kitchen excitedly. He sat back down at the table, glaring at me.

"Questions? Like what? You can tell me my life story just looking at me what could you need to ask me?"

"I can and I already have but I need to be sure. I've been wrong once today and I'm never wrong. I won't let that happen again. Now where did you grow up?" he clasped his hands before his face and watched me expectantly.

"Here in Roseville actually. I've lived in this town since I was a baby," I looked around at the kitchen: the tan walls, the painting with the two koi fish we'd gotten on our six year anniversary (before we were married) hanging above it, and all the other things we'd accumulated that made our little three-bedroom house a home. "I don't see how that has anything to do with this though…"

"That's because you see but you don't observe. If you want my 'theory' answer the questions and don't ask me stupid ones," I shot him a stern look, he rolled his eyes "…please. How long have you and your husband been married?"

"Going to be five years in a few months," the cold rain was beating down on the window behind our sink; I never thought I'd miss rain before the droughts.

"Interesting…" he studied me intently, "One last thing, I want you to tell me about this dream you had,"

"You mean the one where I met you or last night when Ruby died?" he furrowed his brow.

"Last night's," he didn't question that I had met him in a dream or argue it. He just let me tell the story, about the old house and the black smoke, how she died in my dreams and in real life, how Moriarty had exhibited the same pitch eyes and the same cold laugh.

"OK, there's something else I need to tell you if you're serious about this case. Actually I think it'd be better if I showed you," I went into the living room and grabbed my laptop off of the glass topped coffee table. I set it down on the kitchen table, powering it on and clicking the icon for my Netflix account. He was watching me silently, but I knew better than to think it was ever silent inside that clever mind. I turned on the first episode of Sherlock and faced the screen towards him. He stared in confusion as he watched himself meet John Watson for the first time. He closed my laptop forcefully and pushed it across the table towards me. I didn't know what to make of the expression he showed, running his fingers yet again through his mousy hair.

"What in the hell was that?" he finally said.

"That… is a TV show on BBC," I opened up the computer again and typed "Sherlock Holmes" into the search bar, "You're famous, in books on TV, but you're not real Sherlock. You're a character, created a long time ago by a man named Arthur Conan Doyle. You're one of the most beloved fictional characters ever created," I told him everything I knew about him. I showed him how many different versions there were of him in the media, the actor that shared his face. He was dumbfounded. Two impossible things had happened by the time I looked up at the clock and saw that the time read 5 AM. The real Sherlock Holmes appeared in my house, and he had become completely speechless. "It's hard for me to take in too," I told him, rubbing my itchy, tired eyes. "But you're here now and I don't know how to get you back home. You don't have a flat here, 221B Baker Street is a Sherlock Holmes museum. Even if it was there we're in California I can't afford to get to London. I think the best thing for us to do right now is figure out what we're up against," He thought about what I'd said for a moment.

"You said Ruby and Moriarty's eyes were turned black… What exactly do you mean by black?"

"You know what, I think it's about time I found out for myself," I started typing once again: '_Supernatural The Phantom Traveler black eyes' _and I clicked on the first description I could find"Oh of course! Why else would they be called 'Demon Hunters'?! It all makes sense now they must have been possessed!"

"Oh don't be daft if you know my 'story' like you say you'd know that can all be explained, they're not real!"

"Oh and you can explain this? You're not real either bud but you're here. If you can be here then why is it so impossible that this can't be real too?"

"So you think it's a demon huh? Looks like you asked the wrong man for help," Damian came out from our room, he chuckled, but Sherlock looked insulted. "Hey I mean no offense! I'm just saying if she's got a demon haunting her dreams killing people that sounds more like the 'Winchester brothers' department that's all,"

"Babe! You're a genius! If I could bring Sherlock here, why not Sam and Dean?!"

"There's something you need to see," we both stopped and watched as Sherlock pulled a new looking paperback out of his coat pocket and slid it across the table to me.

"But that's…"

"Your hair, your dress and your tattoo?"

"That's me…" I turned the book over and read the back, "That's my story that's exactly what's happening to me,"

"You shouldn't exist to me and I shouldn't exist to you,"

"You didn't think that might be important?"

"Of course I did I'm not an idiot,"

"Well you're not allowed to scoff at my demon theory anymore then! Maybe we're not supposed to be real to each other but we are. That means if you use DEDUCTION that all these other stories have to be real in some way too," but he wasn't listening anymore, he was pacing

"The only question left now is how I got here," Sherlock went deep into thought; we all sat in silence for a moment. "Moriarty—"

"The demon!" I corrected. He sighed irritably.

"The _demon—" _ he rolled his eyes dramatically "-used a gas to put you to sleep, so reason tells us he could have been trying to wake you. But when I went in to pull you out of the gas, we both passed out together!" suddenly Sherlock stopped, "The last thing I remember was grabbing your hand! Oh, it's so simple how did I not see it before?! You pulled me into this reality from your dream! It was the physical touch, and if you intend to bring these 'Winchester brothers' into this reality as well, you'll need to make physical contact as you all lose consciousness together,"

"That was simple?" I said questioningly, "So as long as we're touching and pass out at the same time I should wake up with them here? If only the fan-girls knew!"

"For all we know you could be the only one who can do it," Damian replied. "There's only one way to test it,"

"Hell yeah there is!" it was a good thing I was so tired, because when we all made our way to the bedroom I was practically asleep already. "Ummm are you both just going to stand there and stare at me until I fall asleep?" Damian chuckled and leaned down, kissing me softly on the lips. I held his face in my hands for a moment, feeling his scratchy beard. I ran my fingers through his dark, thick hair. As he turned to leave the room with Sherlock, I told him I loved him. I turned over, mind heaving with demons, dreams and the Winchester brothers, and drifted into sleep.


	5. The Winchesters

**Episode 5**

**The Winchesters**

Stella woke groggily to the feel of leather on her back, laying in the backseat of a moving car wearing her old worn jeans and her cut-up Metallica t-shirt. She was relieved at the view out of the window, because she recognized the highway immediately. She was in the United States which was a good start, and she could hear the familiar sound of classic rock music. For a moment she thought she was having a dream of a childhood memory, until she heard a familiar voice, "What the hell?!" suddenly she could feel the car swerve and screech to a stop. Stella was tossed a bit in the back seat, and when she finally oriented herself she was greeted by two confused and angry faces, and the barrel of a sawed off shotgun held by Sam Winchester in the passenger seat. Her hands shot up, and she jumped, banging her head on the roof of the car.

"Ow! Please don't shoot!" Stella noticed the boys looked a bit different than on the TV. Dean wore no gel in his hair, and Sam's long brown hair was greasier and a bit messy. They both showed bags under their eyes, and scars on their skin. "Please I need your help we don't have much time,"

"How the hell did you get in here?!" Dean roared.

"I woke up here, I swear! Please there's a demon after me and I'm not safe here! Just let me explain please I hate guns just put the gun down!" Stella was now burying her head under cover of her arms, coiling away from the brothers. It was true that she hated guns; she made Damian keep his locked in a safe. They eyed her suspiciously for a moment, decided she seemed harmless enough for now, and lowered the shotgun. She unclasped her head and looked up at them.

"Fine but you're gonna have to take a test," Dean winked. "Don't worry sweetheart it won't hurt if you've got nothin to hide," Sam passed the shotgun to Dean and stepped out of the car, walking around to the trunk. Dean set the gun down and fixated on Stella, smiling. "How'd a nice girl like you get involved with a demon anyways? You make a deal?" Sam rummaged through the trunk, pulling out a shot glass and some holy water. Before Stella could respond he climbed back into the front seat, filling the small glass and handing it to Stella. She drank it, and Sam finally relaxed.

"OK, looks like you pass. Tell us what happened," Stella didn't know where to begin. She took a deep breath.

"So… I come from a place, where you two don't exist. Well, I mean you exist but as characters in a show on TV,"

"Oh god you're from the parallel universe with those douchebag actors? And what exactly do you mean you 'woke up' here?"

"Yes! A parallel universe that's exactly it! It makes so much sense! OK listen, I'm asleep there right now. This demon, it seems like he can only get me in my dreams. He's killed someone, in my universe someone I really care about through my dream. I don't know why he's targeting me probably because I can come here but he could show up at any second and I need you to come with me to my universe and help me find him, I think I know how to get you there. Please come back with me you're the only people who can help nobody is going to believe me back home and I don't know how to fight him. I don't want anyone else to die," Stella was practically out of breath. "Will you help?"

Sam and Dean both looked at each other intensely, as if reading the other's mind. "Do you mind giving us a moment?" Sam asked.

"Yes but you have to decide quickly please I don't feel safe here,"

Sam and Dean both stepped out of the car. "As much as I HATE that place, and I really hate that place, she needs our help and fast if what she says is true she could wake up and be gone at any moment. We've gotta make a decision now,"

"I don't know Dean. We're on a case right now, with people who need us here,"

"If this thing is hopping dimensions, he's been to ours too. He's threatening our people and if we can hunt him down at his source we can stop him from ever coming back,"

"How do we know we can trust her? She's got enough juice to hop dimensions just like this demon that's following her and we usually don't have much luck when we trust monsters,"

"Common does that girl look like a monster to you? She's terrified look at her!"

"I just don't know Dean…"

"Common Sam after everything that's happened can you please, PLEASE just trust me? For once? The case we're on, bloody mess, a Ouijia board left out but no body? No trace of anybody leaving the scene like the vic just disappeared out of thin air?! Don't you think it could have something to do with what's happening to her?"

Sam signed and ran his enormous hands through his long disheveled hair. "Alright. If she can really do it we'll go with her. This better not be because you have a crush Dean or I swear—"

"This is about hunting a demon," they both stepped back into the Impala. "We decided we're gonna help you out with your demon problem sweetheart. Now, how's this whole dimension hopping thing work?"

"Thank you… seriously thank you so much. We have to do this fast he could show up at any second," Stella thought for a moment, "OK, we're gonna need some chloroform, a mask, and… our hands," Sam gave Dean a confused look. "Basically, we all have to lose consciousness at the same time while making some kind of physical contact, and I'm definitely married. So we're holding hands," She shot a glare in Dean's direction.

"Alright, I can get you all that. I just have one question," Stella nodded. "What's your name honey?"

"Stella. Stella MacGregor," her fists clenched slightly, "…and now that you know my name you can quit it with the pet names,"

"Well, Stella MacGregor, we're gonna keep you safe OK? Sammy's gonna put a ring of salt around you and that son of a bitch can't touch you," Sam got out and grabbed all the salt he could carry out of the trunk. Dean and Stella stepped outside as Sam made a large salt circle in the dirt and grass off the side of the highway.

"Why can't I just come with you guys? You're going to leave me here alone?"

"No I'm gonna stay here with you. I've got holy water, and an iron crowbar. We'll stay inside the circle till Dean gets back we're not gonna let anything happen to you," Sam seemed to trust Stella a bit more. He knew genuine fear when he saw it, and he could tell it wasn't fear of them.

"Hey why do you get to stay here with the hot chick?" Sam and Stella shot him a dark look and he put his hands up in surrender.

"Thank you, so much. Just step on it Dean I don't know how much longer till I wake up and I'm not leaving without you guys," Sam and Stella stepped into the circle.

"Why don't you come over here and give your girlfriend a kiss goodbye Dean?" Sam's tone was dripping sarcasm. Dean flipped him the bird and winked at Stella.

"Bitch,"

"Jerk,"

"I'll be back," Stella couldn't help but chuckle at his terrible Arnold impression. One thing she did like about Dean was his cheesy god-awful one liners, it reminded her of Damian. As he fired up the Impala and headed back down the freeway Stella and Sam stood awkwardly, neither knowing what to say to the other.

"So what's it like, living in a world with no heaven or hell?" Sam finally spoke up.

"Honestly? It still kinda blows. There are things that make it worthwhile; I've got my husband and my pets and my sister and brother in-law. I've got a few nice friends and we all get drunk and mess around with whatever will entertain us for the night on the weekends. We may not have to deal with ghosts or demons, or evil wizards, but our biggest problem is the rest of the world. Some of the things I've seen on the show… I mean don't get me wrong it can be pretty brutal and I know you guys have been through some serious shit. But we deal with _human beings _that are capable of things even demons don't dream up. You can't walk down the street, and see someone coming the other way without thinking, 'Is that guy going to try to rob me? Rape me? Kidnap me and sell me into human trafficking? Kill me? Try to sell me drugs? Or is he just going to smile and say hello?' So yeah there are some really amazing things about it, I love my family and they make me so happy. But anyone could take it away from me at any time, over money or power or sometimes for no logical reason at all. Even if they don't hurt you physically they can treat you so horribly, they make you want to hurt yourself. We have monsters too, they're just nearly impossible to pick out until it's too late," she suddenly realized how close to home that had hit, and she turned her back to Sam for a moment to let a silent tear fall down her cheek. She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've had my fair share of trouble telling the monsters apart from the men. Hell sometimes I don't even know where Dean and I stand," Stella turned and shot him curious look. "I don't know how much you know about us, but we're not always the best heroes. People we love, they get hurt a lot too,"

"I'm sorry about Jess, I don't know what I would do if that demon took Damian from me. I'm too afraid to even dream about him now…"

"As you should be!" Stella jumped when a third unfamiliar voice joined their conversation.

"Crowley? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh no no no Crowley popped off for a bit. I'm particularly fond of his vessel so I thought I'd borrow it. Suits me don't you think? It's the accent. How was your little road trip to Sacramento Sammy boy? You let it get cut short by this little WHORE?!" He was circling the salt line as closely as he possibly could, "Quite clever by the way, calling in the Winchesters! What did the great Sherlock Holmes let you down? It's going to take a lot more than these guys to kill me Stella but I must admit I'm impressed. You really get around!" he laughed his chilling laugh.

"What the hell is it about me that you're so concerned with?! What do you want from me?"

"I WANT YOU OUT OF MY WAY," the demon roared.

"I'm not in the way of anything! _You're_ in the way of _me_ getting some peaceful sleep and having a decently normal life so tell me what exactly am I getting in the way of?!"

"All in good time Stella dear. OH SHUT UP WITH THE EXCORSISM WILL YOU?!" Sam had been muttering in Latin under his breath. Stella couldn't make out a word of it, but she couldn't help but smile smugly.

"Look who's powerless now," she smiled.

"_Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!"_ suddenly the black smoke came pouring out of Crowley's mouth, and as it disappeared into the night so did its vessel. "So that's our man?"

"That'd be the one," Stella spit on the ground, "That piece of shit killed Ruby and threatened my entire family… why did he say you were headed to Sacramento? Is that true?" but Sam didn't have time to answer. Dean went flying off the asphalt next to them, kicking up dust and screeching to a halt in the dirt.

"Honey! I'm home!" he stepped out of the driver's side, plastic shopping bag in hand. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing we couldn't handle. Let's get this over with before he comes back,"

"Well just to be safe," he stepped into the circle. "What's your plan Stella?" First, she poured the chloroform on some cloth and tucked one piece safely into the surgical mask. She handed the other two to the brothers, "OK, so you each are going to take my hand. Now this part is important because we have to pass out at the EXACT same time," she hung the surgical mask around her neck, being careful not to drop the soaked cloth inside. "I'm going to put this on and hold my breath. I'm going to squeeze your hands three times to count, the third one means inhale into the cloths as deeply as you can. Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand. You'll get left behind. Any questions?"

"Yeah, how exactly do we get back?" Sam wondered.

"I've got a man on it. The best in the biz!" she tried to sound reassuring. "Trust me he's going to do everything he can to get back to where he's from and that means we'll figure out how to get you two back too," Sam looked unconvinced, and Dean didn't look like he much cared about anything. "Are you ready?" They nodded, and Stella put on the mask. She squeezed, 1… 2… 3… and they all breathed in deeply, holding tight to each other's hands and dropping toward the hard dirt ground.


	6. A Full House

**Episode 6**

**A Full House**

We woke with a start in my bedroom, gasping for air as if we had been drowning. After exchanging awkward looks we stepped into the hall and were immediately greeted by Damian, Sherlock following close behind.

"Nice work babe! You really got em here!" he put his hand up, waiting for a 'return five'. I reciprocated and turned to them, grabbing Damian's hand and holding it tightly.

"Sam, Dean, this is my husband Damian. And this is—"

"Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective. Ah you must be Sam! Shaggy hair, obvious issues with authority… how much does it bother you when your brother plays 'Dad'?" Dean glared at Sam for a moment. "And Dean—"

"That's quite enough of that Sherlock!" I scolded, "Anyways ummm… this is my house, and my universe and there's a demon haunting my dreams so where exactly do we start?"

"I think it'd be best if we took a look around your house if that's ok with you?"

"Don't bother; I've already taken the liberty of searching. There's nothing out of the ordinary here besides how ordinary it is," Sherlock interjected, sounding bored.

"You can look everywhere except in my closet, there's nothing that could possibly help you in there. It's piled with a bunch of our shit so just… don't ok?"

"You mean that large container of mar—"

"SHERLOCK HUSH!"

"I'm just looking for anything that might be attracting him to you or maybe something that's heightening your abilities," I told him that I understood, and before I could blink the boys were out of my sight. I rubbed my temples and rested my head on Damian's chest, "I need a shower, and some clothes would probably be a good idea," our eyes closed he kissed my forehead and I headed to our bedroom, unfortunately it seemed Dean had beaten me there.

"Whoa what's eatin you princess?" he was balancing my old pageant crown on his head and standing in a mockingly regal pose.

"I could just use a shower and a change of clothes you guys can look around in here after," I cracked a smile. "I'm sure we could all use some breakfast too. Let me have my room for a while and I'll make us all some pancakes?"

"As you wish Princess," he bowed sarcastically and handed me back my crown, turning for one last look before he closed my door. I was glad to have a moment to myself; I hadn't expected meeting my favorite characters would be so stressful. I also never expected to be having three of them searching my house on a case. But I had to admit to myself that it was all kind of exciting, I was living a dream. I decided as I showered and changed into some leggings and an oversized grey sweater that I would have a fresh attitude and try to get this whole thing sorted out. I didn't realize how much that fresh attitude would be tested.

"Who the hell do you think you are telling me about MY father?! You may think you're a friggin genius but you don't know anything about my family!" Dean bellowed.

"I know that you're desperate to live up to your father's expectations. I know that there was nothing he could do to save your mother and you're still trying to avenge both their deaths. How many monsters do you have to kill until you feel the slate is wiped clean?" Dean said nothing, he just glared, nostrils flaring and looking ready for a fight. I was frozen as he reached across the table and cold clocked Sherlock with a fierce blow. Sherlock just shook off the blow and mumbled with a roll of his eyes, "Americans…"

"Dean, calm down he's on our side! I brought him here he's a guest in my house just like you are!"

"Why don't you calm down and let the big boys handle this Princess," he replied in a condescending tone.

"Why don't we all calm down, we've got bigger problems to deal with" Sam was now standing behind Dean's chair, he had a hand on Dean's shoulder. It was as if that hand was keeping him from jumping back across the table to finish the job. Dean shrugged it off in frustration.

"Yes the demons. I've done a bit of research but I'd like to hear about it straight from the horse's mouth. Or in this case Moose's," he flashed a rare exuberant smile at his own joke, Dean didn't look impressed.

"You're the genius why don't you tell us if you're so goddamned smart?" he grumbled.

"I know that their weaknesses include salt, iron and holy water, but that's in your universe. I hear you two have been here before maybe you could give me a bit of perspective on exactly how demon magic works here,"

"Long story short it doesn't," Sam replied. "Even angels lose their mojo here, there's no magic,"

"Well then it appears we have the advantage," Sherlock kicked his feet up onto the table casually.

"People are dying can you try to look a little less enthused?" Dean scolded.

"I find that remorse doesn't get the job done, now enthusiasm on the other hand does wonders—"

"Are you some kind of psycho what's wrong with you?!" Dean demanded.

"High functioning sociopath actually,"

"Dean do you trust me?" he looked at me for a moment as if he wasn't sure, but finally nodded. "Then you need to trust him too,"

"You expect me to trust this fuckin guy?!" Dean roared.

"He's the one who figured out how to get you here! Yeah he rubs you the wrong way he rubs everyone the wrong way that's part of being a super-genius and you better all get used to each other because we're in this together now!" I was standing, hands planted on the table and spitting fire, "God damn this is not how I pictured you guys meeting," for a moment there was silence, and that was when I heard it. There was faint wheezing and grinding sound that I was ready to pass off as the wind until it grew louder and more recognizable. A tear came to my eye as me and Damian locked eyes from across the kitchen, and without a word we both went sprinting for the screen door that lead to the backyard. We scrambled over each other, sliding the door open and stepping outside just in time to watch as it came into view. Across the muddy grass and behind the small slide and set of swings appeared a box. It was both ancient and brand new, and painted in my favorite shade of blue. A sign on the front read "Police" but I knew better what it meant. As Damian and I stood in the middle of the yard, his arms wrapped around me and tears in my eyes, we watched as the door opened and a young man with old and knowing eyes stepped out in a tweed suit, suspenders and a bow tie. I broke away from Damian and rushed to the old man, embracing him with such force he backpedalled into his TARDIS and we both ran into a very surprised Clara. "Clara Oswin Oswald!" I exclaimed, releasing The Doctor and shaking Clara's hand. "You have no idea how glad I am to meet you! How did you even get here?,"

"I don't know why you didn't come to me in the first place Stella! Parallel universes _are _my specialty" The Doctor straightened his bright red bow tie proudly. "Now where's our team?" I gaped at him for a moment in disbelief, a stupid smile plastered across my face. "Ah here we are!" under the cloudy sky behind me stood the four of them.

"Hello gentlemen, I'm The Doctor! I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallafrey and this is my compa—" Clara shot him the look, "-traveling associate Clara Oswald! I'm here to stop the demon. Don't ask stupid questions and don't wander off! Any questions?"

"Uh Doctor Who?" Sam questioned.

"Just 'The Doctor'" Clara answered.

"Yeah my turn, what's with the box?" Dean asked

"It's the TARDIS!" I answered excitedly. "That's his space ship and his time machine; it's bigger on the inside! Oh and he's an alien that looks like us but he's got two hearts! That about cover it?"

"Not even remotely babe but they'll catch on," Damian laughed.

"Doctor this is—"

"Sherlock Holmes! And the Winchesters, and of course your husband Damian, lovely to meet you all,"

"Doctor, how did you know?!" I was excited and frazzled all at once.

"I'm The Doctor! You think a dimension hopping demon could pop around my universe without me noticing?!" he passed me and pulled a small paperback out of his jacket, handing it to Sherlock. He didn't even glance at the cover before placing it carefully into his own overcoat.

"Yes of course the next book in the series, I've been expecting you Doctor," Sherlock replied.

"You're smart but you're not psychic Shirley," mocked Dean. "Why don't you quit showing off,"

The Doctor and Sherlock just ignored him. "Doctor, you still haven't explained how you managed to cross over into my universe," I was dying to know.

"Now there's a story!" he exclaimed, "We did a wibbly wobbly timey wimey thing and now we're here. The end! Well then now that that's out of the way I do believe we have some things we need to discuss!" he turned toward the door back into the house, with all but two of us following. The Doctor and Sherlock barely noticed that nobody had come into the house with them, as Damian, Clara and I watched the Winchesters expectantly.

"Come with us, please. They'll have some questions for you. They need your guys' help you know. They've never dealt with demons; Sherlock's never even been to a parallel universe. Can't you at least try to place nice Dean?"

"For you sweetheart? I'll be Mother-freakin-Teresa. For those assholes? Fat chance,"

"She's got a point Dean, you're the one who wanted to come all this way" Sam interjected.

"What did you just call my wife?!" suddenly Damian was eye to eye with Dean. His docile puppy dog eyes had turned vicious, but Dean just smiled carelessly. "She is a sweetheart, she's _my_ sweetheart and I'm planning to keep it that way so why don't you go inside and DO YOUR JOB instead of flirting with my wife!"

Sam tugged at Dean's sleeve, but he just ignored him. "Oh I'll do my job alright. Excuse us while we discuss how we're gonna save your wife's ass," he looked me over, stopping at the particular body part he'd been referring to and smiling. Without missing a beat Damian grabbed Dean by the color of his leather jacket.

"You get a pass for now cause we need you, but you better watch your mouth!" he released Dean and they glared at each other for a moment. Dean faced Clara and I, winked, and finally let Sam pull him back into the house.

"Blimey, the testosterone!" Clara chuckled.

"Yeah no kidding. Thank god you two showed up I thought Dean and Sherlock were gonna kill each other earlier," I replied. "Would you like some tea or coffee or anything?"

"Some tea would be lovely, thanks!"

"Common babe, you heard the lady! It's cold out here and god only knows what they're up to in there," he wrapped an arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

"My Bubba!" and he smiled as the three of us started back into the house.

The living room behind the clear sliding glass door was full of energy. Sherlock was pacing wildly around the room, as The Doctor's hands flapped about every which way while he explained. Sam and Dean sat watching the two from our wine red leather couch. They stopped for only a moment as we entered through the door. Damian gave Dean a killer stare, and passed them to start on tea in the kitchen.

"Now this demon has his hands in every dimension, so reason tells us that he must have some kind of outpost in each place he visits regularly. Moriarty, The Master he picks the 'villain' and possesses them. That would explain how Moriarty survived after he shot himself," Sherlock paused. "He must have something set up here. Stella I need you to think if you wanted to cause the most pain and destruction in your world, if you wanted power whose place would you take?"

"God there's so many: governments, corporations, terrorist organizations, the church there's corruption and power everywhere here I wouldn't even know where to begin," I sat down in Damian's armchair and Clara took the empty spot beside Sam.

"There has to be something more powerful than the government, it'd be someone who could manipulate everything from the background _think Stella!"_

"He'd be the head of an American corporation. They've got their hands in just about everything because they have more money than our government,"

"Is that what America's come to here?" Sam looked disappointed.

"How do you think you two ended up as pretty boy actors?"

"Yes it's all very sad but you need to focus, we've narrowed it down some but we need to know where exactly he's hiding," The Doctor went deep into thought.

"All of our lives are on television, including yours Doctor. Now in Britain we both are on a major network, we have a mainstream following. But you two…" Dean had a look that showed he was waiting for him to say something out of line. "Your show doesn't have the same kind of following. You're on a small time network your fan base is very particular and underground. Our network isn't as popular in the States either… What if there's a purpose behind that, someone with authority over the network here in the US trying to keep the stories under wraps so nobody got to thinking about demons or parallel worlds…?"

"That'd have to be Castcom. They basically have a monopoly on cable in the US as of three years ago; they put everyone else out of business. All that's left are a few stray internet providers," I thought for a moment, "Are you trying to say that the head of Castcom is a demon?"

"That's what it's starting to look like," The Doctor answered.

"I guess I can't say I'm surprised. I've always said daytime television is evil I guess I just never knew _how_ evil… Doctor can I ask you something?" he nodded. "Do you know where this… ability of mine came from?"

"Well, time travel has always been possible in dreams. It takes a very special kind of mind to do it, and even fewer can purposefully without some sort of help, but it is possible. I've never seen this level of psychic ability before, especially from this universe. No magic or advanced technology works here. But you Stella, you are a mystery," he finally sat on the coffee table facing me, eyeing me curiously.

"Great you've got yourself another 'impossible girl' now have you?" Clara said in mock jealousy.

"If no magic works here, that must mean our demon friend will be powerless if we can find him. He'll be practically mortal, we could just kill him the old fashioned way it'll be too easy!"

"Who said anything about killing?" The Doctor asked. "No, nope, no killing as long as I'm around no guns and no killing that's my only rule," Sherlock looked disappointed

"I thought your rules were don't ask stupid questions and not to wander off?" Sam asked.

"Well that's my other one, got a problem with that?"

"A bit yeah… we came all the way here so we can gank this demon what exactly do you plan on doing, bake him a cake?!" Dean was visibly frustrated now. I sat at the edge of my seat waiting to stop him.

"Actually I was thinking Clara could make him a soufflé! Why don't you boys leave that to me and my time machine?" The Doctor sounded so definite and final I knew better than to argue. But something deep down inside me told me that Dean was right; killing him while he's mortal seemed like the best option.

"It seems there's still one detail that we haven't covered, what exactly do you plan on doing about the children Stella?"

I glared at him for a moment, confused. "Oh my god the kids…" suddenly it hit me. Today was Sunday, and tomorrow at 6:00 AM sharp Anabelle would be dropping off the twins. Sam and Dean gave me a strange kind of look. "I'm a nanny, Monday through Friday I watch a pair of twins while their parents are at work," I explained.

"Ah yes children! I'm very good with children, I speak baby you know," The Doctor straightened his bow tie subconsciously.

"Are you kidding me? If they see ANY of you they'll have my head on a pike. They only agreed to let me watch the boys at my house because I promised I wouldn't bring strangers around! Besides nobody can see any of you, your parallel counterparts are famous. People photograph them all the time, if anyone saw you were in two places at once-" we all froze after I was interrupted by a pounding at the door. It was late afternoon, and Damian and I hadn't been expecting anyone. We met at the front door and Damian opened it apprehensively.

"I've been calling you all day WHAT THE HELL STELLA?!" Jasmine pushed passed me followed closely by her husband Luke. "Do you have people over? My sister is dead and one day later you're having a tea party?!" she pointed angrily towards the kitchen where the kettle was whistling loudly. Damian quieted it.

"Jazz can you just let me explain? JAZZ WAIT DON'T GO BACK THERE!" Jasmine stormed down the hall before I could stop her. As she reached the end of the hall and turned to face the living room time seemed to slow. She froze, and took a step back. Her eyes showed shock and anger, even a little bit of betrayal. "Jazz will you please, PLEASE hear me out?!"

"What the… what the fuck is going on here?!" she demanded. Luke and Damian were watching from down the hall, and using their 'brotherly telepathy' decided to let us sort it out.

"I think I can help ease the tension here—"

"I think you can shut the fuck up and let her explain," Jazz snapped at The Doctor, who was now standing before us in the doorway wringing his hands.

"Jazz… this is going to sound so beyond impossible,"

"Try. Me."

"Well this is The Doctor, Clara and Sherlock Holmes. And of course you know Sam and Dean Winchester…" they all waved uncomfortably. "Um guys this is my sister-in-law Jasmine MacGregor,"

"Prove it," her eyes were cold her arms crossed defensively across her chest. The Doctor and I exchanged a knowing smile, because we both knew just the way to prove it. I grabbed her arm and beckoned her to follow. We stepped out onto the muddy grass. Jazz looked at me in disbelief.

"Come on Jazz, I've been dying to go inside," now everyone was stepping out, following us towards the old box. Even Luke, who rarely let his guard down, was in shock as he looked everyone over. The Doctor opened the door of the TARDIS. It was more beautiful than I ever imagined, or than it'd ever been portrayed. There were no lights on, all the buttons and levers were dormant and the round things on the walls looked dead. But nonetheless it was the most astounding and wonderful thing I've ever seen or ever will see in my whole life. The Doctor rested a comforting hand on my shoulder as I cried tears of joy. Nobody spoke; all nine of us were either speechless or wandering about. Sam and Dean both had to step in and out of the door a few times before they let themselves explore the center consol. "Well Jazz? Do you believe me?"

"How did… how'd you all get here?"

"It's kind of a long story, but first I have to tell you something…" she watched me expectantly. "Jazz your sister… she was murdered. It's all my fault but I brought them here, and they're going to make sure it never happens again. I'm going to make sure he can't hurt anyone else—"

"How dare you?! How could you say that; how could you possibly think you know anything about what happened to Ruby?!" I didn't even know where to begin. "What the fuck do you mean it's YOUR fault?" she was crying, her arms wrapped around Luke's waist and head buried in his chest. We were all silent.

"It's not her fault!" Clara finally spoke up. "Stella put her life in danger to avenge _your_ sister's death. We're all putting our lives in danger so that her murderer never gets away with this again. We've traveled across time and through the barrier that keeps our worlds separate and we may not even be able to get back now," she was looking at The Doctor now, arms crossed, as if they'd had that conversation too late. "I'm sorry about your sister… we've all lost so much because of this man, demon, whatever it is,"

Jazz straightened up instantly, "Did you just say a demon? Did a demon kill my sister?!"

"We think so yeah," Sam, who had been watching sympathetically from the background, stepped forward in front of her. "We're not going to let them get away with it, if you know who me and my brother are then you know that we won't. In fact we were on the case before Stella even brought us here,"

"How is this even happening? How is this possible?" She broke away from Luke's arms and passed through the large group that was watching her, inspecting the inside of the TARDIS.

"Ah yes, possibilities! Anything is possible! Possibilities are endless! Dreams, it's our dreams that make everything possible the subconscious is full of… possibilities!"

"Spit it out space man!"

"Basically Stella's subconscious contains a door. No no… not a door a sort of—"

"Why don't you save yourself the trouble and just tell them it's a universe-wuniversey thing Doctor? I _highly_ doubt anybody here besides me would understand…"

"Oi! Brain boy! Why don't you let The Doctor explain and give them a chance eh?" Clara had her hands placed defiantly on her hips as she spoke.

"Basically Stella has advanced psychic abilities that allow her to travel between parallel universes through her dreams. It also seems she is able to bring, well anything, from said worlds back to your world," The Doctor finished.

"Umm you didn't think to tell me that you're psychic?! What the hell dude have you been able to like read my mind and shit?!" Luke looked extremely concerned with the idea that Jazz had brought to the table.

"No I don't think it's that kind of psychic. Jazz I was going to tell you but this all started the night Ruby died. I thought it was just a premonition you know one of those freak things that happen but last night… I met Sherlock. I accidently brought him back with me. Then when I figured out it was a demon who killed her I thought we'd need their help and then The Doctor and Clara showed up in my backyard, it all happened so fast don't you see? How hard this would be to explain right now? I'm sorry OK but he's not going to stop and look Jazz, look around you, isn't it amazing?! Everyone in this ship, we're not going to rest until our family is safe. He could be after you too Jazz, he threatened to take away everyone close to me and that means you too," we were all nine of us silent. Standing in the TARDIS and waiting for her to respond I felt a levity, a feeling of safety.

"I… I think I can understand," she finally said.

"Look, I don't know about you guys but I'm starving. Me and Damian, we'll fix up a proper feast. Tomorrow, after the kids leave we're going to find out where this demon is and we're gonna take care of him once and for all," I nodded at Dean, hoping he would understand that I knew this monster needed to die. The Doctor said nothing, but eyed me suspiciously before brightening up.

"Yes! A nice dinner, lovely! Tell me will there be fish fingers and custard?" Clara and I chuckled.

"I think that can be arranged Doctor, common let's go back into the house,"

I took Jasmine and Luke to the store with me, explaining the whole story from the beginning in vibrant detail. After the burgers, fish fingers and tea was made we were scattered about the living room with whatever surface we could find under our plates, and by the end of the night even Sherlock and Dean seemed to almost be getting along. We exchanged stories, most of which Jasmine or I were already familiar with. At one point, we had almost forgotten that we had all been brought together under such grave circumstances. Finally our plates cleared and the discomfort of our situation seemingly passed us, we all sat quietly for a moment.

"I think you should all stay in the TARDIS for tonight, if that's OK with you Doctor. It's the one place nobody will stumble upon you and there's more than enough space. I know you don't sleep Sherlock and I'm not quite sure what your sleep habits are Doctor but I do have to get to bed and you guys can't be wandering around all night. Sam, Dean, this may be the best chance either of you could ever have to privacy and a good night's sleep without the risk of waking up to a monster in the closet. You should take advantage of it,"

There wasn't any protest, Sherlock had mentioned something about experiments and The Doctor seemed eager to get back to his ship and start with him. As the house cleared out I wondered how I was going to deal with sleeping that night, if I was going to travel again. I was afraid, but I knew I couldn't go the rest of my life without sleep because of what _could_ happen. I silenced the room, cleared my mind completely, and finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	7. A Day at the Office

**_Episode Seven_**

**_A Day at the Office_**

It was a beautiful and sunny Monday morning, the smell of wet asphalt was still fresh but the clouds had finally cleared after one final nighttime rain. You'd never know however, from the state of this man's large office. The sun was blocked by closed blinds, and the bare walls didn't leave much room for scenery either. The man who sat in the hard black desk chair was a clean cut, suit and tie type that was dressed as plainly and orderly as his sky high New York office. If he had opened his blinds, the man would see a vast and seemingly endless cityscape and a muddy but bustling Central Park below him. But he had no interest in beautiful scenery, he had his nose to his computer screen and was reading an email that seemed to be making him very angry. He pressed a small button on the large office phone to his right.

"Judy, could you call Carol in for me?" he said in a calm voice that contradicted his gritting teeth.

"Right away, sir," the secretary responded with lightning speed. He waited impatiently for a few minutes drumming his fingers in irritation. Finally there was a knock at the door.

"Yes, come in I don't have all day!" the man snapped. A full figured woman in grey professional attire entered.

"Mr. Crayne, did I do something wrong?" Carol replied nervously.

"Have a seat Ms. Smith. I hear you have been asking quite a few questions about the way we run things here at Castcom. Do you have any concerns you'd like to share with me?"

She sat down on the hard chair that faced him, "Well I—I just don't understand why we've been putting so much funding and effort into reality TV after all these years. The numbers clearly show that trash TV hasn't been nearly as popular as scripted dramas and sitcoms. It costs about the same to get the actors to pretend that they aren't acting I just don't understand why we don't put our resources in support of better more intelligent television…" she hung her head, waiting for him to rip into her.

"That's an excellent idea Carol!" she lifted her head and smiled.

"You really think so? Because I have some ideas…"

"NO I DON'T REALLY THINK SO!" Mr. Crayne flicked his wrist towards her. Suddenly Carol Joan's head twisted around backwards with an audible snap from her neck, and her body slumped over on the desk, a bit of blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. "Well can't leave that _heap_ lying around," with a smile and another wave of his hand he watched as she crumbled away into a pile of black sand. It appeared to float and disperse into the air; the seat was empty and as pristinely clean as before the woman even entered the room. "Much better,"

"Mr. Crayne, your 11:00 is here to see you," said Judy's mechanical voice from the phone. "He's a bit early, should I ask him to wait?"

"No, no it's fine send him in!"

"Right away sir!" he could hear her voice softly from behind the wall directing the man to his office.

"Jonathon! So good to see you, do have a seat," Jonathon sat uncomfortably looking nervous. "I assume you have news for me?"

"Sir the boys… were a little trickier to get ahold of than we thought. Their mother was up half the night with them there was no way to sneak in—"

"THAT'S WHY YOU DON'T SNEAK IN YOU BREAK IN! I TOLD YOU I WANTED THOSE BOYS!" Mr. Crayne bellowed. He was a Caucasian man of average stature, but his pitch eyes were intimidating enough to make for his size.

"Yes sir of course I don't know what I was thinking…"

"OF COURSE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOUR WERE BLOODY THINKING! YOU DON'T THINK! I do the planning and you and your men execute it at all costs or it's your head Jon!"

"I'll have them on it as soon as I'm out the door sir, I'm sorry sir please give me another chance…" he bowed his head in fear and shame.

"Damn you if I could do it myself I'd kill you right here. Those bloody idiots still think I'm a demon and I plan to keep it that way as long as I can and I will NOT give them the opportunity to find out on their own by showing up on her doorstep. Am I clear?!"

"Crystal sir, I'm sorry sir!"

"Wait till the kids are back at their house, and bring them straight to me this time I don't care if you have to kill the bitch and her husband but those boys come to me unharmed. I don't want any more fuck ups this is your last chance," Jonathan nodded violently and turned before his boss could see the tears streaming down his cheeks. He was wondering to himself why he had ever tried to stand up to the man in the first place. If he had only kept his head down when he found out what he was, his family would still be safe and he wouldn't be forced to lead mindless, greedy thugs to kidnap children halfway across the country. He'd seen the boy's pictures, identical twin brothers. They were young, probably only five or six. He knew that this 'Stella' was homeschooling them during the week while their parents worked and that she wasn't to be touched. As he made the call, the door to Crayne's office opened behind him. He stepped out, an envelope in hand.

"Make sure this gets to her. No excuses, no fuck ups…" he flashed one last dark look before stepping back into the big gloomy office. There he sat down, a satisfied smile plastered across his face. He kicked his feet up on his desk, and leaned back in the chair barely held by his back legs. "Damn it's good to be me…"

He kicked off of the desk, letting himself fall backwards closing his eyes. But as he made contact with the ground every bit of matter attached to him, his clothes the chair, had dispersed into a sandy black dust that was floated up in the air and disappeared.

An hour or so later a pretty young blonde knocked on his door, "Sir, Carol's husband is on the line. She was supposed to meet him for lunch a while ago; I didn't know what you wanted me to tell him… Sir?" opening the door slowly and cautiously she was met with an empty office. She breathed a small sigh of relief and went back to her desk. She stared anxiously at the phone, not quite ready to lie to the man yet. She rubbed her palms across her eyes, and finally picked up the phone. "I'm sorry Jim, Mr. Crayne says that Carol left to meet you after they were finished in his office. Sorry Jim I told you already I was away from my desk at the time. Of course I'll make sure you're the first to know. Take care," It was best he didn't know the truth; she knew it all too well. Once he knew what Mr. Crayne really was there'd be no going back, no getting out. She told herself over and over in her head she'd done the right thing. But god did she hate doing it.

_(Sorry about posting it unfinished, all fixed now!)_


End file.
